Hot Sauce (Suncoast Society #26)(58)

“Roger, captain. Are you currently experiencing any mechanical issues or safety issues, or are you taking on water? Over.”

“No, we’re just anchored. We were fishing. Over.”

“Roger, stand by channel two-two. This is Coast Guard Air Rescue 6014, out.”

“How long are you going to be? He’s in a lot of pain.”

“Vessel Mako, we are en route to your position, ETA seventeen minutes. Stand by channel two-two and await our next communication, or hail us if the patient’s condition changes. Out.”

One of the passengers spotted them first a few minutes later, about the time the radio came to life again.

“Vessel Mako, this is Coast Guard Air Rescue 6014. Captain, we have visual contact with you. Is your patient still conscious? Over.”

“Yes, hurry!”

“Captain, can you pull anchor and start your engines? Over.”

She couldn’t believe she’d heard him right. “Seriously? It’ll take me some time. The captain is the one who’s having the heart attack!”

“Copy that. Is there anyone else on board who can operate your vessel? Over.”

She noticed he didn’t call her captain that time. “I can, but I’m not great at it, why?”

“Copy that. Vessel Mako, we are going to dispatch a rescue swimmer to your vessel. He will board, assess the patient, and then help transfer the patient. Please acknowledge. Over.”

“Okay, just hurry.”

It felt like forever before the helicopter arrived and circled them. The pilot picked a position just forward of their bow and descended close enough to the water so the rescue swimmer could jump in. He started swimming toward the boat while the helo ascended and moved a short distance away.

One of the passengers remembered the chum bag and pulled it in, dumping it out of the way in the bait cooler. The other two helped the swimmer get on board and then scurried out of the way while he knelt next to Reed.

“How you doing, sir?”

“Lot of chest pain. Trouble breathing. Vomited.”

“Do you have a history of heart trouble or other medical conditions?”

“No. Been having indigestion. Thought that’s what it was.”

“Are you on any medications?”

“No. Just took some antacids a while ago, and then some aspirin when the worst of the pain hit.”

“Have you been drinking today, sir?”

“Please, he’s the captain!” she nearly screamed. “This is his charter boat. He was having some pain this morning but thought it was his breakfast.”

The rescue swimmer held up a staying palm to her but his tone remained comforting. “It’s okay, ma’am. Stay calm. We’re going to take good care of him.”

“Where are you taking him?”

“We’ll fly him up to Bayfront in St. Pete. They’ll take excellent care of him. Can you operate the boat well enough to maintain a steady speed and compass course?”

“I can drive it, but I’ve never run it by myself before.” She pointed at the passengers. “They can’t drive it—they’re drunk.”

She hated that the Coast Guard swimmer looked like he was trying to be patient with her. “Do you know how to maintain a compass heading?”

“Not really, no. I follow what the screen on the GPS tells me.”

“Are you going to be able to get your vessel back to shore, or do you need me to call a towing company?”

“Yeah, he showed me how to run the GPS and I’ve done it before, but never alone, and not with precision like you mean.”

“Okay. I need everyone to get in the bow while I have them drop a rescue basket.” He got on his radio and spoke to the chopper, who’d been hovering a short distance away and off to one side.

She leaned in and kissed Reed. “I love you, Sir,” she whispered.

He grabbed her arm and squeezed. “Love you, too, missy. I’m going to be fine. I promise.”

“You better be.”

She backed away, hugging herself throughout the process as the helicopter got into position. They dropped a guy line to the deck first, and then a rescue basket. The swimmer got a life vest on Reed and helped him get in, then signaled for the chopper to winch him up. A moment later, they’d retrieved the swimmer and were heading back to what she assumed was the north, toward St. Petersburg.

“Vessel Mako, this is Coast Guard Air Rescue 6014. We have the patient safely aboard and secure. Do you need any further assistance? Over.”

She grabbed the mic as she stared at the disappearing chopper. “No. Please, take good care of him.”

“Vessel Mako, copy that, and roger. Have a safe trip in. This is Coast Guard Air Rescue 6014, clear channel two-two, for channel one-six—out.”

She tightly clutched the mic in her hand as she stared after the disappearing helicopter.

One of the guys, the not-pukey and apparently most sober one, stepped up next to her.

“Um, we’ve been out with him a bunch of times, but we don’t know how to operate a boat. We can pull the anchor for you. We’ve helped do that.”

Fuck. Now what the hell do I do?

She took a deep breath. Tony, what do I do?

Yes, she knew it was stupid, but it was the only thing remotely keeping her growing panic at bay.